Griffin’s palm slides against my thigh, stopping the movement. “Breathe, Angel. Everything's going to be fine.”
I slump back against the seat and shake my head. “What if it’s Tyler’s?”
His grip on my thigh tightens the barest amount. “It’s not.”
“It could be.”
“No. Not after what he’s put you through. I don’t give a shit what the tests say.” He pulls into the parking lot of the medical plaza and turns to face me. “No matter what happens today, we’re in this together. Tyler can fuck off back to Mexico and stay there for all I care. That baby in your belly is mine, whether the ultrasound confirms it or not.”
“Griff—”
There’s something so determined in the set of his shoulders before his hand touches mine. “I mean it, Angel. I want this. You may not believe me yet, but Iwillprove it to you.”
I want to believe him, but my judgment is skewed. I’ve already been burned once. Opening myself up to another heartbreak is the last thing I need, even if I want to take everything he’s offering. I don’t want to go through this alone, but can I trust my heart on this one?
Griffin
Angie lies back on the exam table with her shirt pulled up over her belly. She has fresh pink stretch marks around her belly button—so faint you might not notice them unless you already have her body memorized.
If I said I wasn’t a bit nervous, I’d be a goddamn liar, but I can’t let on about my true feelings. I have to be strong for herno matter the outcome. She might not be ready to accept that I’m all in when it comes to her and the baby, but I’ve got roughly nine months to make her believe it.
Angie’s been yapping away for the last few minutes, but I’m too preoccupied by my thoughts to take any of it in.
“Based on your chart, you should be far enough along for an abdominal ultrasound, so we’ll try it this way first. If we have any issues seeing the baby clearly, we’ll switch to internal.”
I don’t have the balls to ask what that entails, but it sounds awkward and uncomfortable.
The sonographer, who introduced herself as Ashley, squirts a clear gel onto Angie’s stomach, and Angie winces. I’m at my wife’s side in an instant, taking her hand in mine.
Ashley smiles like she’s seen this happen a million times. “She’s fine, Dad. It’s just a little cold.”
Dad.
The title catches me off guard. It doesn’t feel like it belongs to me yet, but fuck if I don’t love the way it sounds.
Ashley presses a wand to Angie’s belly and moves it around with one hand while she taps some buttons on a big machine with the other. “Ready to see your baby?”
We both nod.
Angie’s grip tightens as Ashley turns the large screen to face us. The image is mostly black with some streaks of white and grey, and a little off to the left is a small alien-like blob. She glides the wand around, and the indistinct profile with a tiny nose and chin comes into focus.
Ashley presses a few more buttons, and a loud whooshing sound fills the room. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”
Pride blooms in my chest as I stare in awe at the tiny being on the screen. Nobody speaks for a long while, but Angie’s hand never leaves mine.
“According to my calculations, you’re a little farther along than the original estimate.”
Angie sucks in a sharp breath, stiffening at my side. Disappointment hits me like a sucker punch to the ribs, but I don’t let it show.
Ashley doesn’t seem to notice the subtle shift in mood. “Based on these measurements, you’re roughly ten weeks along, which puts your due date around February fourteenth."
Ten weeks.
Fuck.
Angie tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t let her. Her smile has vanished, replaced by a look of utter devastation.
A lone tear falls down the side of her cheek, disappearing into her hair, and suddenly I’m too goddamn far away. I drop to my knees at her side and capture the next one with my thumb.
